


Is That You

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-05-23
Updated: 1999-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-10 14:55:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11129130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: A story about Louis Gardino and Jack Huey





	Is That You

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

Is That You?

All Characters in this story belong to Alliance and the producers of Due South. The song is "The Dance" by Garth Brooks. The emotional background music for this piece (other than "The Dance") was the soundtrack for Eight Seconds. Carri Ann 

# Is That You?

by Carri-Ann Copas 

Long and hard as the day had been, it seemed that Jack Huey had an even worse night ahead of him. When he thought about it, the day had been a piece of cake compared to what being on a stakeout with Ray Vecchio would be like. Pulling on his coat, Jack groaned as the thought of the long night ahead refused to leave him. He had two hours between now and the time that he had to report over to the apartment on north Laramie Avenue. The plan was to use those two hours wisely. 

It had always been this way with Ray. Sure, Jack liked him as a fellow police officer, but not necessarily as a person or as a friend. There was almost no common ground between the two, and the fact that Ray was friends with a mountie seemed to solidify Jacks belief that there was very little the two Chicago officers had in common. The only time the two had anything in common was in sharing the same initiative to bring in Louis killer. They'd shared a few beers, gone to a few ball games, gone to a few lunches and dinners, but that didn't make them bosom buddies. Not like him and Louis... 

Under his breath, Jack had cursed as Lt. Welsh had made him aware that he was to be on a stakeout tonight with Ray. With the next words out of the Lieutenant's mouth, Jack sighed in relief. They would be in contact via radio, stationed in different areas of the neighborhood. Boredom may take over, but it beat the awkward silence that would loom between the two officers. 

As Jack quickly unlocked and entered his home, he stopped a moment to rest with his back against the door, almost appearing to be trying to hold the world at bay outside his front door. At that moment a feeling of sadness washed over him. When was the last time I was on a stakeout? Jack thought. With Louis. The thought of going it alone without Louis upset him more than the thought of going it alone period. There would be a book to keep him occupied, but it did not compare to even the most lonely, most silent night with Louis. It came to Jack then that he had never thoroughly mourned his friends death. He had been too busy looking for revenge. 

********** 

Sitting alone in the dark apartment, a set of binoculars to his eyes, Ray Vecchio contemplated the situation before depressing the button on the radio in his hand. 

"Hey Huey, anything down at your end?" 

Jack responded, "No, unless you want to bust some lady walking her dachshund and Great Dane." 

"Come again? I think this radio isn't working." 

"You heard me right Vecchio." 

Ray then saw the woman with the odd couple in tow. "Well I'll be damned..." He smiled at the seeminly ridiculous site below. 

Jack smiled and couldn't resist making a comment. "No stranger than the site of a Canadian Mountie well dressed it uniform, walking down the street with a gaudily-dressed Chicago cop." 

"Hey, I resemble that remark!" Ray answered in mock offense. He laughed, thinking it was funny that Jack had been the one to pull the joke. "Alright, all's quiet down here, so that's it from me for now." 

Setting the radio aside, Jack stayed standing at the window for a moment, thinking again of his last stakeout. It had probably been the dumbest case hed ever been sent on, but that was what made it so much fun. There had been a sudden influx in the popularity of cowboy clothing in that area of the country, that is, in the midwest, instead of out west or back east. There was some apparent theft of warehouse, as people were taking the clothes to sell on the street. No biggie, really, except the companies being ripped of were Wah-Maker, Stetson, and Justin. Now, this didn't mean a whole lot to him and Louis for they'd never heard of the companies except Stetson, since it was the company that made Fraser's RCMP hats. Well, it turned out Wah-Maker was the producer of some of the most expensive old-west--as in Wyatt Earp and Wild Bill--shirts in the country. Going for what they did, it was not surprising someone would want to steal them and make a little profit. And the thieves were making quite a profit off of the Justin Company's boots, too. There were so many pairs of $300 sharkskin, ostrichskin, eelskin, and snakeskin boots in that truck that the thieves could have made a tidy profit in one day's work. All in all, the bust went well, and it was enough to make Jack wish he wore those sorts of clothes, as Fraser was sent five shirts, two hats, and two pairs of boots when it was all said and done. Fraser had done everything he could to try to return the things, but in the end failed. The most Justin was willing to do was trade the boots they had given him (one pair shark, one pair ostrich) for a pair of lacers and a pair of ropers, both black, and both a lot cheaper than the exotic skins. If all else, someone came out of it all with something, even if the recipient didnt want anything at all. 

Louis had been funny during the entire incident, but Jack got his biggest laugh in the end. Louis had been sneaking through the warehouse, thinking the thieves knew not of his scheme. Well, they had, and one of them shoved a big stack of Stetson boxes onto the unsuspecting Louis. After the action died down, the thieves arrested, Jack went back into the warehouse to find his friend. After no success, he resorted to yelling, "Louis, where the hell are you? Get your butt out here!" At that moment, Louis came up for air from his swim beneath the boxes, an entirely-too-large-and-too-stupid-looking hat upon his head, covering his eyes. 

Alright, so I'm mistaken, Jack thought. Louis was given that stupid hat too. For some reason only known to him, Louis was proud of that hat, and even called up Jack one night to tell of seeing it on TV. 

"Hey, Jack, I just saw my hat." 

"On who? Bozo the clown?" 

"No, on a Texas Ranger named Captain Augustus McCrae." 

"Are you moving to Texas now?" 

"Just because I have the hat doesn't mean I'm moving." 

Yeah, it had been an interesting stakeout, to say the least. Sure makes a person miss his friend, Jack said aloud. 

"Have you been taking care of my hat?" 

"Yeah, got the damn thing hanging on the wall at home. I even dust it like Fraser told me to." 

Suddenly Jack gulped. He was just now aware of what he had said. He was afraid to turn around, but more afraid to not look. 

"So what is this one for? Not more hats, I hope." 

"Louis?" 

Jack moved to turn, but it wasnt necessary, as his friend walked past him and to the window. When the binoculars were picked up, it was enough to make Jack feel ill. Sensing his friends uneasiness, he said, "Yes Jack, I'm still dead. Just thought you might need some help. Or at least some company." 

"Company? Jack muttered in disbelief. Louder, he said "Company? From a dead person?" 

"You make it sound like a disease, Jack. It isn't leprosy. I'm only dead." 

"Louis, I want you to know there is no history of mental illness in my family." 

"What does that have to do with me keeping you company on a stakeout?" 

"I just want you to know that I'm not delusional." 

"I never thought you were." Suddenly it dawned on Louis what his friend was muttering on about. "Ahhh, I see now. You think that you are imagining things. If you were, denying it to your delusion wouldn't help matters anyhow. Trust me, Jack, I'm really here. I could be somewhere else, but I'm here in this run-down apartment with you, watching a woman walk her Dachshund and Great Dane." 

"Is she still out there?" Jack asked, stepping up to the window to look out. As he neared Louis, the cool room was warmer next to the open window. Unsure of why there was a warm pocket *here*, and not really wanting to know the reason, there was hesitation on Jack's behalf. He stepped away from Louis and it was cool. He stepped closer, and it was warm. 

"What are you doing?" Louis asked with some irritation. 

Jack didn't answer, but carefully reached out to his friend. When his hand actually settled onto something solid--Louis' shoulder--Jack turned pale. Quickly he stepped away from the apparition, going to the next window, pretending as if nothing was wrong. Yes, the woman with the dogs was still there. It was suspicious. He wanted to radio Vecchio about it, but he knew he would have to move past his friend to do it. The whole moment was making him sweat. 

"Here." The radio was handed to Jack as if his mind had been read. Jack hesitated in taking it. It was really in front of him, it was really Louis handing it to him. He was about to take the radio when he noticed the reason the woman was stopped was to allow the little dog to hitch its leg at a tree. The trio had now moved on down the street. Louis continued to offer the radio, but Jack would not take it. The reason had nothing to do with no longer needing the contraption. 

"You're *only* dead?" 

"What?" Louis asked, confused by his friends comment. 

"You said 'I'm only dead.' You are taking your own death rather well." 

"There isn't a whole lot I can do about it. They lied in the movie All Dogs Go To Heaven. There is no watch for me to wind in order to get my life back. If there was, believe me, I would *really* be here." 

"How can you cope with your own death?" 

"Apparently better than you coped with it." 

"I coped with it just fine," Jack protested. 

"You didn't cope with it at all." 

"What are you saying?" 

"I'm saying you didn't cope with it. You didn't address it. You didn't mourn." 

"Oh, so now I'm getting a guilt trip from a ghost for not mourning his death properly." 

Louis turned away. "Forget I even mentioned it." 

"Don't turn away from me! I have my reasons for acting the way I did." 

"For starters," the ghost said, looking again out the window,"and I can't believe I'm saying this, you and Ray were way too hard on the Mountie." 

"Fraser?" 

"How many Mounties do you know? You and Ray were all over him like white on rice for proving Zuko didn't plant that bomb." 

"So what? Zuko ordered the bomb put in Ray's car." 

"Exactly. Zuko wanted Ray dead, not me. It was an accident." 

"It was a bomb!" 

"It was meant for Vecchio. If I hadn't gone to car by myself, the bomb would have sat until we were all there. Then you and Vecchio and Fraser would have been dead too. It was better this way." 

"Better for who?" Jack asked. "You think it makes me happier to think 'Well, geez, at least it was *only* Louis'? Sometimes I think it would have been better if..." 

There was a silence that Louis was growing increasingly uncomfortable with. "There was no way around the bomb, Jack." 

"I just wish you were here," Jack admitted sadly, his back against the wall, his eyes closed. 

"I'm right here!" 

"You know what I mean. You were...are....my best friend. I spent every day with you. It isn't easy to let go of a friendship you've had for that many years. Not when your friend goes out like that." Jack slid down the wall to sit on the floor, taking in a long, shaky breath. 

"Would it have made you feel better if I would have died some other way?" 

"It would have made me feel better if you hadn't died at all. Come on, Louis, you and work--that was all I had. Now I have work, and I don't like it so much anymore. Welsh is starting to get irritated, because I won't take on another partner." 

"It isn't safe to work as a cop without a partner, Jack. Not in this town. You know that." 

"Louis, if you lost your wife, would you up and marry another one six months later?" 

"My wife left me. I'd be lucky to find another one. But, no, I wouldn't." 

"Being partners with you is practically like a marriage--I spent eight, ten, twelve hours a day with you. I listened to you gripe and moan, and you listened to me. We had breakfast, lunch, and dinner with each other on more occasions than I care to remember. I just thank goodness we weren't roommates. I would have killed you myself." 

Louis smiled as he sat listening to his friend. No, it wasn't *macho* for Jack to be letting tears well up in his eyes, but it was for his own good. If he didn't let go of the stress and guilt, it would eat away at him until it killed him. That was the last thing Louis wanted for Jack. 

"Remember the time Welsh sent us over to that little old lady's house to investigate a kidnapping?" Jack asked. Louis nodded. "She called up hysterical, 'Polly is gone! Polly is gone! I want you to find her kidnapper!' So you and I jump in the car and run down there. She drags you into the house, and points to the empty doggie bed. Polly the dog. And we thought it was her daughter or something!" 

Laughing, Louis added, "What was worse was that the lady knew how long the dog had been gone--two hours and twenty minutes--and said she was never gone for more than fifteen minutes at a time." 

"Yeah, I remember. I'm surprised she didnt know to the second. So you ask for a description: a boxer bitch who had gained considerable weight over the last few weeks. Hmm, sounded fishy. But we snooped around and found the dog in the neighbor's bushes." 

"I never expected to be midwife to a dog! Louis exclaimed. "And then I never expected to end up with a pup!" 

"You and I end up on cases, and someone ends up giving you something." 

"You could have taken it instead!" 

Shaking his head, Jack said, "No thanks. No cowboy hats or boxer pups for me." 

"You ended up with the boxer anyhow." 

"*And* the hat, no thanks to you." 

"I'd have taken him with, but I didn't want you to shoot my dog just to have it with me. Besides, there's plenty of dogs around there as it is." 

"Heaven? Around heaven? Where are your wings? And your halo? Or did you..." A mischievous grin spread across Jack's face. 

"No. Thanks a lot. I think most cops are guaranteed a place in heaven...." 

"So now its "All Cops Go To Heaven, eh?" 

"Yeah, our badges should say 'Chicago Police Department--Good Deeds 

Rendered Daily.' Well, it's not like we are required to put our lives on the line everyday for someone else." 

"That's the only problem with being a cop." 

"The pay wasn't so great, either." 

Nodding in agreement, Jack added, "It's sickening that sports people make more than officers, firefighters, teachers...a whole lot of people who deserve to be paid more than people who *play games* for a living. They don't pay us enough to risk our lives and those of our partners. They couldn't pay me enough to make up for losing you." 

"If they tried, I'm sure you wouldn't complain." 

"What is it with you, Louis? I try to let go of my feelings to you, and you try to get me to bury them. If I bury them, you have to try and get me to open up. You're infuriating." 

"It pays to be consistent," he answered with a grin. 

"You're wrong about how I took it, Louis. About how I took your death." 

"I'm dead! Don't try lying to me! I saw it all. I know you *didn't* take it well. I've never seen you spend so much time at the firing range. But I figured that was rage and revenge, not mourning." 

Jack nodded in admission. 

"And I know that to this day it still bugs you." 

"Apparently," Jack said with a smile. " *It* is still here." 

Overlooking his friends last comment, the ghost pressed on. "You still have it out for Zuko, deep down in your heart." 

"So? I always have." 

"No, Vecchio always did, but you were indifferent. You're still so filled with rage that you're blinded. You slipped up and said that Zuko had the bomb planted. Freudian slip or just plain stupidity?" 

"Did I?" Louis nodded. " Hmm. I don't feel that trying to frame Zuko was a good enough reason to plant a bomb in Ray's car. Couldn't they have just shot at us, then brought him in for attempted murder?" 

"You know he's got a hot-shot lawyer that would get him off the hook. Even if convicted, hed probably get five years max, with a year or so of probation. They wanted more." 

"And why not? It would be enough to get Zuko off the scene, and for the others to take over his business." 

"Jack, when they wanted Zuko 'out of the way,' they wanted him dead. The deaths of four police officers--even if one is from Canada--is enough to get him lethal injection. Besides, we don't even really know what the true motive was for framing Zuko--what was expected to be gained from it. All we have is pure speculation." 

Suddenly the conversation was interrupted as the radio came to life. "Hey, Jack, how's it going down there?" 

Jack rose to his feet and walked to the radio sitting by the window. "All's clear as far as I can tell, Ray." 

"Ray?" Vecchio repeated. 

"What?" 

"You alright? Since when are we on an intimate first name basis on a stakeout? You aren't feeling ill, are you?" 

"No, *Vecchio*, I'm not. Any action at your end?" 

"I'm starting to feel like this whole stakeout was a waste of time. I could be all comfy-cozy in my bed right now, but here I am. I'm so bored, I wish that Louis was here to insult me over the radio." 

Jack didnt press on the button when he said "That could be arranged." Louis just shook his head at his friend. "Vecchio, if it were possible, you would *not* be saying that." 

"Probably not. Hey, did the Lieutenant say when we could ditch this place if nothing comes up?" 

"Tomorrow morning." 

"Great. Alright, Im going back to staring out the window again." 

Louis was walking out the door when Jack turned back to him again. 

"Where are you going?" 

"I may be dead, but the ol spirit does all the same things it use to--eat, drink, sleep, go to the...." 

"Alright! Just go!" As Jack watched Louis leave he asked, "Are you coming back?" 

"Ha! You *wish* you could get rid of me so easily." 

Jack was slumped in the chair at his desk. The stakeout the night before had taken a lot out of him. It was tiring to sit up all night for apparently no reason. Finally resigning to the fact that he either needed a cup of coffee or a pillow and blanket, Huey rose to his feet and made his way to the break room to brew a pot as strong as he could handle it. Maybe even beyond. 

As he waited for the Mr. Coffee to dump out the very last ounce of brew, Jack's introspective thoughts were broken by the sound of Ray coming in the room, apparently on the same mission. 

"I think being assigned to an all-nighter should automatically make you eligible to take the next day off to sleep in," Ray griped. 

"I couldn't agree more." 

Since both were a little too incoherent to carry on a full-fledged conversation, they split the pot and wandered back to their desks to choke down the coffee that was twice as strong as it should have been. 

Thirty minutes later, Fraser walked into the stationhouse and then immediately wished he hadn't. Ray was going a mile a minute and talking even faster, and it was hard for Benny to keep up with him. 

"You are chipper for one who was deprived of a full night's sleep," Benny commented. 

"Coffee if a wonderful thing, isn't it?" 

"Well, actually, the caffeine is quite bad for you should you be deprived of sleep, consume massive amounts of it, and then experience the 'crash' will more than likely come later." When Ray frowned, Bennycommenced to change the subject. 

Much better thanks to his friends Mr. Coffee and the Boyers Brothers, Jack was not nearly so resistant to the idea of going out and questioning some witnesses in the neighborhood where he and Ray had had the pleasure of spending an entire night doing nothing but staring out their respective windows. Before getting out of the car, he checked his gun, making sure that he was prepared in case things should go haywire. "You wouldn't have to worry about such things if you'd take on a partner, Jack." 

Without looking at Louis, Jack answered, "Thanks, *mom*. I'll keep that in mind. Besides, isn't that what you're here for? And where is your little box so you can ask Gooshie what's going to happen?" 

Louis smiled. 

It was hard for Louis to sit in the car and watch Jack carry on with his duty. It wasn't so much that Jack had moved on with his life, and accepting that Louis wasn't there to be his partner. No, the thing that bugged Louis the most was that *he* hadn't moved on. He had never wanted to go. Of course not. Most people don't *choose* to die. What tore at Louis was that maybe he was "back", but it would never be the same. Since it was his prerogative to go whenever he chose, he took that option. 

At the station house, not much was happening to help lift his mood any. Ray was sitting at his desk, filling out some paperwork, and it was one of those rare moments when Fraser wasn't around. Louis made his way to Welsh's office. He was always curious as to what it was that the Lieutenant did with his time, so now he was going to find out. 

Harding sat at his desk, a pile of things to do on the left side of his desk, things that were done on the right. At that moment, the Lieutenant was looking over a report for a case that Ray--and presumably Fraser--has just solved. As usual, the typing was flawless, thus making reading and approving the report a snap. 

"How did Vecchio ever get anything done before Fraser showed up?" Harding said under his breath. The file was closed, and set in the done pile. It wasn't too exciting, but Louis decided that he would have a seat and see what else was up for the day. His interest perked when the next file was a case that Jack had closed. 

"Suspect was apprehended with some difficulty. Struggle, but satisfactory restraint led to apprehension." Harding sighed as he closed the file. "I wish you would take on another partner, Jack. This stress is too much for me to take. I can't spend my days worrying whether or not one of my detectives will come back fine or in a body bag." 

Louis' expression of interest quickly dropped to one of worry. He had never thought that Harding worried about them. He never realized that the Lieutenant looked after and worried about his young detectives as if they were his own sons. There was never any thought of how hard it could be for this man to send his "boys" out there everyday with cases to solve, knowing that he could be sending them to their death. Louis had never thought of it that way. But Harding had. Every day. 

The next file didn't make it any easier for both men. Before reading it, Harding rose to his feet, went to the windows that overlooked the squad room, and shut the blinds. Then a heavy sigh shook his body as he sat back down at his desk. There was a post-it- note on the cover, reading ,Lt. Welsh, please look over this file and make sure it is in order so it can be archived." 

But Welsh didn't want to look. He didn't want to remember anything that would help him to tell if the file was in order. His head was cradled by his hands, his elbows on the desk. It took him a long while to regain any semblance of composure. When the man looked up, there were tears in his eyes. 

Worry quickly turned to sorrow and pity in Louis' heart. Never had he seen the Lieutenant act emotional. What could possibly be causing it? As the man opened the file, Louis wished he had never come poking around in Welsh's office. He'd wished he had just stayed in Jack's car. 

After about an hour of questioning, Jack realized that he wasn't getting anywhere. The people in the neighborhood where he and Ray had been on the stakeout the night before were either hard of hearing, gone, or lying. Detective Huey suspected the latter. The was a definate risk of going against the mob, and all the people in that neighborhood knew it. Whether out of loyalty or out of fear, Jack was not going to be able to get them to talk. Though it was cool out, Jack opted to roll down the window and leave it that way. For a moment he allowed the car to warm up, his actions to turn on the radio nearly automatic after putting the vehicle into drive. Immediately he knew this was not his radio station \--country music certainly could not be mistaken for oldies rock. Jack reached out to change the station, but left it when he heard the first notes played by the piano. He was fond of the piano, and wanted to hear what this song sounded like. 

Looking back on the memory of  
The dance we shared, 'neath the stars above  
For a moment all the world was right  
How could I have known that you'd ever say goodbye?  


Jack listened more intently as the chorus began. 

And I, I'm glad I didn't know  
The way it all would end, the way it all would go  
Our lives are better left to chance  
I could have missed the pain  
But I'd 've had to miss the dance  


There was no effort to stop the tears that welled up in his eyes. Jack did not think about where he was going. He knew the way all too well, though he'd only gone there once. 

Holding you I held everything  
For a moment wasn't I a king?  
But if I'd only known how the king would fall  
Hey who's to say, you know I might have changed it all  


And I, I'm glad I didn't know  
The way it all would end, the way it all would go  
Our lives are better left to chance  
I could have missed the pain  
But I'd 've had to miss the dance  


Yes my life is better left to chance  
I could have missed the pain  
But I'd 've had to miss the dance  


The car door was left wide open as Jack stumbled toward his destination. When he got there, he fell to the ground, finally letting loose all the pain and agony that he had held in for the last few weeks. He leaned heavily against the headstone, talking out his emotions aloud. 

"Louis, I am so sorry this happened to you. You didn't deserve this. It should have been anybody but you. I would have gladly given my life to save yours. You were my best friend." Jack choked up so badly that he couldn't speak. He wept loudly and openly, unashamed and unconcerned what bypassers might think. Tears poured down his face, with no effort made to wipe them away. Arms wrapped around his bent knees, Jack rocked gently back and forth, allowing his grief to fully engulf him. There was no need to hide it. Everyone he worked with knew how close he and Louis were. It would be wrong of anyone to expect him to hold in his feelings. He had done it for this long, and it was long enough. 

"I wanted to rip out Zuko's heart when I thought it was him. I wanted to reach out and grab him around his throat, slowly choking him. Just before he suffocated, I would let him go. All I wanted to do was torture him slowly. I know that you didn't know what happened, that you probably didn't feel anything. You don't know how grateful it makes me to know you didn't suffer. But I wanted Zuko to suffer. I wanted to do every imaginable torture to him, even if it meant losing my shield, even if it meant going to prison. Nothing could hurt me more than losing my best friend." Another bought of emotion racked his body. He couldn't control himself. 

Out of the hurt that he was suffering--not just now, but for weeks--there came some feeling of relief. Jack felt as if by letting all of it out, he was pushing his way out of a darkness that had swallowed him whole. "It's going to take a long time, Gardino, you gotta know that. I can't stop hurting immediately. You'll just have to deal with me mourning you for a long time. I will *never* get over this. Life's just that way." He knew he wasn't really talking to Louis, saying this for Louis' benefit. It was his own way of giving himself permission to set aside the tough veneer that came with being a man and a cop. Permission to cry and to mourn and to feel the emotion that was part of being him and being friend to someone who was dead. 

When Jack finally ran out of tears, which was a good long while after he started, slowly he rose to his feet to look down at Louis' grave. He had not come back here since the funeral, but was glad that he had come today. Back inside his car, one last heavy sigh came forth, making him realize how much letting go of all that hurt drained him. It 

wasn't enough that he's had a long night up, now this was pulling the last of his energy from him. At that moment he decided he would not return to the station house. If he had to use a sick day, fine. He was sick, very heartsick. They only way he knew to let go of Louis was to hold on to him. With that, Jack started the car and headed home. 

* * * * * * * * * * 

The photo albums that never left the bookshelf finally broke routine and were brought down to the kitchen table. Jack called up Elaine before opening the book. He told her he wouldn't be in for the rest of the day. 

"What to you want me to tell Welsh as the reason?" Elaine could sense something wrong in his voice. "You want me to make something up?" 

Jack was touched by her willingness to cover for him. "Tell him I'm mourning." 

"You're *what*?" she asked, thinking she misunderstood. 

"I'm mourning. It's time I got in touch with my feelings about losing Louis." 

Elaine pulled the phone away from her ear, looked in disbelief at the upper extension where the speaker was, shook the phone for a moment, then put it back to her ear. "So you are letting go?" 

"No. I am accepting. I refuse to let go of Louis and forget him." 

Elaine smiled sympathetically. "Alright Jack. I'll be sure to let the Lieutenant know. Call if you need anything, alright? Someone to talk to, a gallon of mint chocolate chip ice cream..." 

"Thanks. I'll be sure to do that." When Jack hung up, he turned the ringer off. He wanted to be left alone. If it was urgent, they knewwhere he lived. 

For a moment he merely stared at the album, noting it's forest green cover with a gold foil embossed edging. Inside were memories he cherished, but wasn't quite sure he wanted to relive. A hand reached out and opened it, as if making the decision for his heart. 

Of all things, a laugh came from him at the site of the first picture. This made it easier to go on, though anyone would have to laugh at a picture of a bunch of cops standing around at a costume party for halloween. There was Louis, always the character, in a french maid's outfit. He was the only guy he knew who could pull such a thing off, though he didn't have the legs for it. Vecchio made a good vampire, Benton a suitable lumberjack. It didn't seem like enough of a stretch, for that was what the mountie wore off-duty anyhow. Being a cat suited Elaine. Harding said he would go as a cop. No one found that to be good enough, so instead the Lietenant showed up as a doctor, while Esther got to be the patient. 

A few pages in, the theme changed, as did the season. It was spring, and guys--Louis, Ray, Benton, Harding, and himself--managed to get a day off together to head out of town to Rock Cut State Park and do a little fishing. Of course Benton got more fish than everyone else, for it would be unnatural if it was any other way. But the surprise came when Louis caught the three biggest fish of the group. A little gutting, filleting, and frying later, they helped themselves to a generous catfish dinner before returning home. 

When the first photo album was done, Jack put it up and went for an older one. He smiled as he looked at clean-cut, tuxedo-clad Louis, the day of his wedding. Naturally Jack accepted when Louis asked him to be best man. It was a beautiful wedding, he had to admit. Janis seemed so perfect for him. There was a feeling of relief knowing that his best friend would no longer be a womanizer, but instead a respectable husband. Not that he didn't respect him anyhow, it's just that finally so would others. 

That was with the exception of Janis. Louis was so faithful to her. He came home as early as he could every day, spending as much time with her as possible. Around Janis, he was nothing less than a gentleman--both gentle and a man at the same time. If she wanted something, he would do all he could to get it for her. Nothing was beyond her heart's desire if he could help it. 

Apparently her desire extended past Louis, as he found out too late that she figured she could do better with a guy with more money than the cop could ever hope to offer. In the end he was left by his adultress wife for a man with family money and greased-back hair. 

For months after that it was hard to deal with Louis. He became moody and unpredictable. Jack stood by his friend, taking the abuse that Louis doled out without thinking. There was nothing he could do for his friend except wait it out and hope he snapped out of it. At one point Harding asked for his shield and sent him home for a week to cool off. After handing over his shield, as he was leaving the squadroom, Louis stopped at his friend's desk for a moment to tell him "Don't call me while I'm gone. Just leave me alone." Mouth dropped open, Jack stared at his friend's back as it moved away. 

There was no thought that this was for both their own good. Before going home, Louis stopped off at the liquor store to pick up two bottles of Hornitos, a tequila that would put Jose Cuervo to shame. For three days straight Louis was drunk. He would have enough to get drunk and stay that way throughout the day. On the fourth day he went for a bottle of Crown Royal. It wasn't until the sixth day that he didn't have a drink. That morning he work with a start at around four am, dreaming of his wife. Usually waking in the middle of the night meant he was up for the rest of the day. Instead he hugged her pillow tightly, taking in a deep breath of her scent, and cried himself back to sleep. 

When he awoke again, he got up and shaved, cleaning himself up to look presentable at his visit to his friend's house. Seldom had Jack been so glad and so relieved to see him as that morning. Together they went out to breakfast and talked for hours about what Louis has been through. From there it seemed they were bonded for life. 

Back to the here and now, Jack put that album up too. He was glad he had decided to spend this time by himself. It was doing him a world of good. 


End file.
